Heaven In Your Arms
by TheMizMagnet
Summary: He was everything: my rock, my shoulder, my comfort, and my strength. And now, he was gone. Could I go on...? I found that impossible to fathom. Slash, ONESHOT, Character death, rated for safety


**Title**: Heaven In Your Arms

**Rating**: T – M: Teen – Mature – I'm not sure exactly what rating this will get. Rated M for safety.

**Genre**: Angst, Romance

**Pairings**: John Cena/The Miz

**Warnings**: Slash, character death, angst

**Summary**: He was everything: my rock, my shoulder, my comfort, and my strength. And now, he was gone. Could I go on...? I found that impossible to fathom.

**AN:** Uh... This one came to me kind of randomly as I was reading a fic by CodyRhodesFan, who has recently been talking to me. I apparently got her into John and Miz as a pairing, so yeah. I think it's only cool that she sparked my muse enough to write this. I will be continuing _The Darkness That Consumes_. I just wanted to post this while I had the muse for it.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.

**HeavenInYourArms**

All night, there had been people walking up to me, clapping me on the back, offering their condolences. I didn't want them. I didn't _need_ them. I was stuck in this world on my own now, and I couldn't feel a thing. I was so numb inside after the entire ordeal, that I had almost managed to convince myself that it never happened. At least Vince had decided that the memorial episode wouldn't happen until next week.

Finally, the pressure of everyone coming near me got to be too much. When Randy Orton came up, put his hand on my shoulder, and started to say something, I lost it. Sure, on-screen, they had hated each other. But, in real life, he and Randy were best friends. I blamed myself for what happened, and Randy trying to choke back the tears I saw in his eyes was killing me. The dam broke, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I shoved my way past him, running as fast as I could away from him and the other two members of Legacy.

I slammed the door open, and it hit the wall so hard it slammed back shut. I didn't make it to the bench before my knees gave in and I hit the ground hard. John meant so much to me, and he was gone now.

"Damn you, Cena..." I muttered, my body wrenching forward, forehead touching the floor. I couldn't have gotten another word out if I tried. Sobs were breaking through me, torn from my throat, leaving me gasping for breath.

_Shortly after the Jeremy Piven episode of RAW, John had approached me, asking if I was furious with him for ending my RAW career. I had been pissed, angry, and frustrated, but not with John. John was just doing what it was he was told. As for me, I had to deal with that. Even the lumberjacks, none of whom were friendly to John, hadn't been enough help to let me stay in. Of course, I managed to get my contract back, but that was neither here nor there._

"_No, Cena, I'm not," I had shot back, my attitude as arrogant as always, even if I did want to cry and rage and throw things. He had grabbed my hand, stopping me in my tracks, and pulled my arm so that I was looking at him. My angry blue eyes met his sad ones, and he let go._

"_Mike, I am really sorry," he said. I hated it when he did that. He used my real name mercilessly, a weapon he knew would weaken my defenses, pour a torrent of water over the flames of my anger. I sighed, leaning forward, my forehead resting on his shoulders. Those arms, the ones I loved so much, wrapped around me, holding me close. I could still smell the soap he used in the shower, on and strong, even after the match._

"_I know, John," I said, wrapping my arms around his torso. He pressed his lips to my head, pulling away a minute later._

"_We'll figure it out, Mike," he said, his voice reassuring, his body providing warmth. "I promise."_

I had no idea how long I was lying on the floor, staring into oblivion. My body was rejecting the tears that had long since stopped. My tear ducts were empty, but my body was wracked with the post-cry breaths that never seemed to be deep enough to fill my lungs. The door swung open, revealing a pair of blue pants.

"Oh, Mike..."

The voice belonged to a woman, a Diva, I was sure, but I couldn't place it. My mind was in such a muddle, in so much denial that it could be this way, that I didn't even attempt to figure out who just dropped to the floor next to me, and pulled my head into her lap, one soft hand gently rubbing the remaining tears from my face, the other running through my hair. It was then that I realized there was a silver belt lying next to her, and it came together.

The Diva's Champion and one of John's closest friends, Mickie James, was holding me close to her. She had been the first person – along with Randy Orton – that John had told when we started dating.

"Sweetie, you have a match," she said, her voice quiet. I didn't move, just allowed her to hold me.

"I don't care," I whispered, my voice too hoarse and my throat too pained to make me speak any louder. Mickie nodded, her fingers never moving from my head, gently massaging my scalp. I had told John that calmed me before... he had done it to make me go to sleep one night on the plane, and Mickie had seen it. She knew, but I doubted she knew how much it was hurting my heart right now.

"I figured you wouldn't," she muttered. "Vince got Kofi to take your place in the match, so you don't have to worry about it, okay?" I nodded, though I didn't care. I would have gone out, and I would have been annihilated. It didn't matter. It would be nothing compared to the pain I felt now. Thankfully, Mickie didn't say anything else, and I was left to my thoughts again.

"_Mike, would you stop?"_

_The laughter in his voice made me grin, looking at him, before I laughed. He was blindfolded, and I wouldn't show him where we were. I had done this specifically to prevent him from knowing where we were. It had taken a lot of time and effort, but it was finally done, and he would love it._

"_Okay, picky," I teased, grinning. We stopped moving, and I pulled the blindfold off, moving so that I was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. He smiled, kissing me before he looked around._

"_... Mike?_" _I laughed at the confusion in his voice, and turned him around. Sitting in front of John was a bright red, 1969 Shelby Mustang_. _He stared at it for a minute before he grabbed my arm, dragging me in front of him again, and kissing me deeply. I moaned, and responded in kind, but before I could get too far into the kiss, he stopped, pulling away._

"_John..." I muttered. He laughed softly, his breath warm against my cheek._

"_Let's christen her," he whispered, a mischievous smirk on his face. I laughed and nodded in agreement._

Why did I have to buy him the damn car? If I wouldn't have bought it for him, he wouldn't have driven it. If he hadn't been driving it, that fucking semi wouldn't have hit him. If that semi hadn't hit him, he'd still be alive. The thoughts caused sobs to started to tear through my body. Mickie kissed my head and helped me get to the bench before she left, kneeling long enough to grab the Diva's Championship Belt.

"I'm so sorry, John. I'm so sorry..." I whispered, holding onto the bench as though it would save my life. I couldn't take it. The pain was bearing down, the pressure was too much. I managed to get up, swaying slightly before catching my balance. My hand touched the knob, and I quickly turned the lock on the door, locking myself in the room. I dropped back to my knees and crawled to the shower area, grabbing one of the razors there. I had never considered suicide before, but I needed to get away from this pain. The razor touched my skin and I didn't even realize I had moved it until it fell from my bloodied fingers. My blue eyes stared at the crimson flowing freely from my veins.

"John..." I whispered, lying down on the ground, spreading my arms out, watching the hazy, transparent image of John close in around me. The last thing I remembered was John's arms wrapping around me before it all went black forever, and I was reunited with the only person I had ever loved.

_**-Fin-**_

**AN: **Yeah... I don't know why I wanted to write that, but I did. I left a lot out as far as what beliefs both John and Miz have because I think it's the wrong thing for me to do. I'm atheist, so I don't think it's right for me to try to give them some sort of belief. Besides, it's okay for a story to end here, right? No one knows what happens after you die.

_**.: The Miz Magnet :.**_


End file.
